


Random Word Fics

by arrows (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America, Marvel, The Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Artist Steve, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Ghosts, M/M, More Artist Steve, One-Sided Relationship, Steve Feels, Storms, WIP, Writing, more to be added - Freeform, short fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/arrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some short fics with the help of a random word generator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gate

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any mistakes in this, my computer is being weird and it's kinda difficult to type on a kindle. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! This is my first time writing Steve and Tony so sorry if they aren't very accurate. I think I get a you tried star for this one.  
> There will be more stories with other pairing soon.

Word: Gate  
Pairing: Steve/Tony

This was a bad idea. Not only a bad idea, a really bad idea. Possibly one of the worst ideas Steve had ever had (minus the ones that had gotten people killed).  
Steve told his feet to stop moving, they ignored him and continued walking down the road. He could see Avengers Mansion now, with its large gate that had never looked quite this imposing before.  
He had been there for official team business, mission briefings and things like that, but now he was here alone, and he was finding it hard to mask how nervous he was.  
A breeze blew past as Steve approached the gate, ruffling the pages of the sketchbook he had brought. He hesitated a second before opening the gate. He barely heard the groan of the metal over his thoughts. _What if he doesn't want me here, he's probably busy, gosh this was a terrible idea_.  
He walked to the door of the mansion and knocked. (It was old fashioned and unnecessary, he knew, since JARVIS had probably already alerted Tony that he was here, but it was a habit.)  
Steve heard footsteps coming towards the door and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. His thoughts quieted down as he saw Tony's grin, his bright eyes, the soft glow of the arc reactor visible under his shirt.  
(Steve saw Tony like this, in parts, the whole was sometimes too much to take in all at once. It was in this way that Steve thought Tony was similar to Howard, though he would never mention that again after Tony's reaction the first time he'd said something - words that stung but eyes like a wounded puppy.)  
Tony nodded at him and stepped aside to give him room to enter. "Hey Rogers. What's up?"  
Steve found himself without an answer, he hadn't meant to come there, by the time he realized where his feet were taking him he was already most of the way there and it seemed a waste to turn back after going so far. He looked down and said the first thing that came to mind. "I was wondering, if I could draw you?"  
Steve cursed his words, he hadn't meant to ask that at all. He had already drawn Tony countless times, small sketches of his face and a painting or two, but those were things he would never show to anyone.  
Tony shrugged, oblivious to Steve's thoughts, though he could see some of the conflict on his face. "I was just gonna work on the suit today, if you wanna draw while I do that."  
Steve found himself... excited, to be able to draw Tony without hiding it. He grinned and nodded, most of his earlier nervousness forgotten. "That would be great!"  
Tony led him to the lab, "You can sit on that couch, I'll be right over here, do _not_ touch anything, we all know how bad you are with technology."  
Steve sat down and Tony got to work on the suit, turning up his music and becoming almost as robotic as his creations, mindlessly making repairs while his thoughts were everywhere else.  
Steve opened his sketchbook quietly, got out some charcoal, and started to draw. He had a method for drawing Tony by now, it wasn't like a portrait, all precise lines and purposeful marks, no, to sketch Tony one had to have broad lines, expressive shading, long flowing marks reminiscent of a gesture drawing. That was the only way to grasp Tony, in movement, because Tony was always moving, even when he appeared to be still, he was always thinking and there was always an air of movement around him.  
The hours passed quickly, and Steve produced drawing after drawing. Eventually, Tony stood up and made his way to the couch. Steve looked up at him and smiled softly.  
Tony reached for the sketchbook, Steve pulled back slightly and frowned. "What, am I not allowed to see?" He raised an eyebrow and reached for the book again, this time Steve didn't try to stop him, just sighed and let it happen.  
Tony sat down beside him and flopped through the pages with care. The sketchbook was almost full, he noticed, and nearly every drawing was of him. He glanced at Steve when finished, Steve was looking away and possibly blushing.  
"These are really nice."  
Steve looked at Tony after a minute and smiled. "Thanks Tony..." He let his words trail off, not sure what else to say. He looked at the clock on the table next to him and stammered out "Oh, it's late, I-I need to get h-home."  
Tony smiled at him. "Alright, see ya Cap."  
Steve nodded at him and fled. Maybe next time he would have enough courage to tell Tony how he felt. But for now, he'd stay quiet.  
That didn't change the joy that filled him when he remembered Tony's words. He replayed them the length of the walk home, and in his dreams. "These are really nice" became his favorite combination of words he had ever heard.  
The gate didn't seem as threatening when he returned.


	2. Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: Step  
> Pairing: Clint/Natasha  
> Character: Natasha Romanoff

She had only two possessions she could actually call her own, most of her things were SHIELD-isssued or generic things bought for disguises. A simple green bracelet Clint had given to her in Budapest, saying it brought out the Colorado of her eyes. She kept that locked away in a box, knowing that if she wore it, it would be lost on a mission and she would never be able to get it back. And a large makeup kit she had been given as a child, before the Red Room, and found again when she returned to her childhood home many years later. She kept everything she could need to disguise herself in this. A neat row of hair dyes on the top section of the box, many different shades of red, with other colors on the far sides of the line of dye, each labelled with an alias. Natalie Rushman was slightly darker than her natural bright red-orange hair, Natasha Romanoff was slightly redder, and so on. She had makeup in this box too, similarly labeled, each alias had a style of their own.   
She pulled out the bottle for Natalie, adjusted her step to fit the personal assistant businesswoman. Each persona was as if she transformed into a different person, it came from her training in the Red Room, and was what made her SHIELD's perfect spy. She had created a story for each far beyond what SHEILD could have thought of, each woman was unique but not so unique it would draw unwanted attention. A story, a personality, an appearance, she even changed the way she walked to fit each one. There were subtle changes she made to herself, many small things she did that changed her completely.   
Sometimes, on especially long missions, she started to forget who she was. Not all at once, but in stages, in steps, she would start to forget how to be herself and not this character she had created. When this happened, she would reach into her makeup kit and bring out the green bracelet. It was the only thing that, in the absence of Clint himself, could remind her of herself. She would put it on, not keeping it there for very long for fear of losing it somehow, but just long enough to remind her of who she was until she could get home to her Clint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty much just word vomiting here, so sorry if its not good. Comment if you like it!


	3. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: Storm  
> Pairing: Peter/Darcy  
> Fluff. Fluff everywhere. All the fluff.

It was a stereotypical dark, stormy, all-around gloomy sort of night. Peter was walking back to the tower in full Spidey costume, it was raining too hard to swing, unfortunately, and he was afraid that the webs wouldn't stick well enough. He went up the elevator to his floor (he still couldn't believe Tony had given them each a whole floor. _Nobody_ needed that many rooms.) and saw a blanket... lump... thing... on his couch.  
"Huh?"  
He heard a muffled "hmmph" from under the blankets and walked closer.  
"Hello?" His words were accentuated by a loud clap of thunder that seemed to shake the walls.  
The pile of blankets shivered slightly and shrank further into the couch.  
Peter sat down next to it - them? - and quickly pulled the blankets away. "Aha!"  
Of course it was Darcy. Of course she would be the one to break into his floor - well, he supposed it wasn't really breaking in when she lived in the tower too. But whatever. - and randomly fall asleep on his couch.  
Another burst of thunder interrupted his thoughts, and Darcy clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder and whimpering.  
"Darce? You okay?"  
She shook her head and looked up at him. "It's the storm... I've been scared of thunder since I was a kid. I know, it's stupid..."  
He pulled her close. "It isn't stupid. Come on, it's late, you should get to bed. You can sleep with me if you want." He paused and blushed a bit. "Not like that.. just... in the same bed--"  
Darcy smirked and kissed him quickly, making him blush even more.   
"I-I... what?"  
She giggled and grabbed his hand, pulling him up and to his room, climbing onto the bed and curling up under the blankets. Peter just stood there, blushing furiously.  
"Well? Are you coming?" She smiled at him.  
"I, um.." He sighed. "Sure."  
He crawled onto the bed next to her. There was some more thunder, and she pressed closer to him. He put an arm around her and held her.  
"Hey Pete?" She whispered.  
"Yeah?"  
"Thanks." She pressed closer and closed her eyes, and fell asleep smiling.


	4. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: Dance  
> Pairing: Steve/Peggy  
> omg this has been done a lot  
> but I felt like writing ghosts so  
> don't judge me -hides-

It seemed right that it was cloudy today, the sky looking like it could burst any second and pour rain down to the earth.   
Steve stood at the gate of the graveyard, hesitant to enter. He stayed there for a long time before he convinced himself to push the gate open and go inside. He scanned the gravestones until he found the right one, and felt himself fall to the ground in front of it. _Margaret "Peggy" Carter, loving wife and mother. 1/25/1921 - 5/4/2013_  
A few tears slid down his face, he wiped them away. "Peggy... I'm sorry." He smiled sadly at the grave. "I'm a little late for our date... Still haven't learned how to dance..."  
He felt a strange tingling on his back and turned around. There she was, Peggy, standing behind him and smiling. "'Ello Steve."   
Steve stared at her and stood up quickly. "P-Peggy?"  
She looked just as beautiful as when he knew her, red lipstick in place and eyes shining bright. She nodded.  
"I can't stay for long, but... I wanted to see you." Her body flickered in and out of existence, Steve tried to reach out and touch her, but his hand went right through.  
He settled for placing his hands in the air next to her sides. "May I have this dance?"  
She smiled at him and put her hands by his shoulders. They swayed back and forth, to anyone else it would look like he was dancing with the air, but he knew she was there.  
He didn't know how long it lasted, but eventually she stopped. "I have to go now... Goodbye Steve." She smiled at him and began to fade into the air.   
"Please stay, please Peggy, don't leave!" His thoughts were incoherent, all he could think was that it was bad enough losing her when he went into the ice, waking up to find she was still there but older, with a family, being too afraid to intrude on her life again. It was bad enough before, but now he swore he could feel his heart breaking.  
Peggy put her hand on his cheek. "You'll find someone else. And I'll see you again, don't worry." With a soft smile she faded the rest of the way, until Steve was left standing there sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More word vomit, wooo! Comment if you like it, or if you have any suggestions, please! (I might make a second chapter to this one involving Tony... maybe.)


	5. Antique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: antique  
> Character: Steve

Steve was old, he knew it, felt it every day. Even though he didn't look his age, it was clear to him that he didn't belong here, in his world of computers and cell phones and everyone moving so fast. In his time (it felt strange to say that, in his eyes it was a few days past, a week at most. Certaintly not nearly seventy years ago) people moved slower, took their time to watch the world as it spun and observe the people around them. Now, there was always something to do, people talked faster, walked faster, drove faster, danced faster. There seemed to be no time to enjoy anything. Too many deadlines, too much stress. At times he wished it was just a dream, that he would wake in the morning, maybe next to Peggy or in his military bunk. It was a nightmare getting used to everything. He felt like an antique, it was disorienting. People were so _careful_ around him, like being brought to this time would make him break if they said anything, did anything wrong.  
(But at least it was better than being in the ice.)


	6. Writer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: Writer  
> Character: Darcy Lewis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there hasn't been a new one in a while, might post a few this weekend to make up for it. Thanks for reading, comment if you like it! Not sure where I was intending to go with this drabble, but it turned out differently than I thought it would... Oh well.

Darcy wasn't meant to be a political science major.

She'd originally gone for literature, wanting to be a writer. She loved the way words felt under her fingers on a keyboard, typing with a rapid click-click-click sound, or appearing on a paper as she dragged her pen across it, jagged letters if she was rushing, smooth cursive if she was trying to be elegant. Every story is a different combination of the same twenty-six letters, and that amazed Darcy. She'd always wanted to be an author growing up, she'd written countless stories and never showed them to anyone; once she got to college she figured it was time to share them and get some feedback.

Her father didn't approve. At all. He was a lawyer, most of the people in his family were lawyers. He pestered Darcy to no end, texting her or calling her at least once a day; not saying outright that he was unhappy with her decision but slipping little hints into _everything_ until she finally gave in. She switched to poli-sci in the middle of the semester and tried her hardest to catch up. It was difficult, but she managed.

Her creativity slipped away with every minute staring at a politics textbook.

After the Thor incident, and after Loki's attack on New York, SHIELD moved Jane and Darcy to the Avengers Tower to help with the sciencey stuff on that end of things. Darcy's first thought upon arriving in New York was, "I could write a book about this".


	7. Bench

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word: bench  
> Pairing: Steve/Darcy

It isn't creepy, Steve tries to convince himself. Just practice. Nothing weird about drawing random strangers. His pencil sweeps across the page again to sketch the form of that large woman walking past with a stroller, curved lines taking on her plump figure until she leaves his frame of view.

Three filled pages later (he doesn't measure time in minutes or hours, but art) a woman walks into his view and sits down on the bench across from him. He gets to work quickly, taking a dark brown pencil to shade her hair and a red pen for her brightly colored lips, filling the lines of her shoulders and breasts within a few seconds. She looks around, seemingly waiting for someone, and pulls out her phone, tapping the screen for a few more minutes with a quick glance every so often up. 

He finishes shading the hard lines of the bench she sits on when she stands up. He smiles down at the drawing and adds some finishing touches.

A shadow crosses the page. Steve looks up at the source of the unexpected darkness, not expecting to see the woman. She sits down next to him, rose petal lips curving into a smile. "You're really good."

He blushes. "Thanks, miss." He says, returning her smile with one of his own. "I'm Steve," he holds out a hand to shake.

"Darcy, nice to meet ya Steve." She replies, shaking his hand quickly. "Wanna go get coffee sometime?" She's already flipping the page with her face over and taking a pencil, jotting down her phone number. That kind of forwardness wasn't widespread in gals in the forties, other than Peggy, but he liked it.

"Sure, that'd be great." He replies, feeling a blush creep across his cheeks again. She looks up suddenly at a blond man, one he recognizes (though he looks much different without the cape) as Thor. "Ah, my friend's here, gotta go. Call me!" Darcy says with a large smile before running iver to Thor and wrapping him in a hug.

Steve makes a mental note to ask Stark to show him how to use his cell phone so he can call her.


End file.
